Wise Words For A Wise Woman
by justfandomwritings
Summary: Angry and disgusted, Lyanna Stark storms out of the hall at Storm's End, leaving behind her brothers and her soon-to-be betrothed. When her little brother stops her to talk some sense into the wild girl she finds herself face to face with a far more interesting guest, far more interesting than her betrothed that is.
1. Chapter 1

_**Look, I just love Oberyn okay?!  
I don't think I'll make this into a whole story. I really don't have the time for that sort of thing, at least not right now. I have other stories and lots of work to do and no free time... Although, if you do like this oneshot and want it continued let me know because I want to find time for this if people are interested...  
****I'm really just looking for excuses to write more Oberyn... God why am I in love with fictional characters.**_

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Lyanna held back a snort of derision. It took all she had not to turn sideways and smack Robert Baratheon straight from his chair. She had only been visiting with the Baratheons at Storm's End for a fortnight, but she could already tell that she despised this man.

They had met once before when Lyanna came to visit her brother during his time with Jon Arryn at the Vale, but she couldn't remember the young Robert she had met then being this… Well arrogant was the only word for it. She supposed, looking back on it, that at the time he was too infatuated with meeting her the first time to bother trying to impress her the way he was now. Not that Lyanna would ever find his stories very impressive. The very grandeur of some of his claims along with the wincing expressions her brother would occasionally make proved them to be false before she even questioned Robert.

How her sweet, quiet, loyal older brother Ned had ended up friends with a fool like this Lyanna would never know.

The Baratheons and Starks were sat in the Great Hall at Storm's End breaking fast, with Lyanna sat between Ned and Robert, Benjen on Ned's other side. While the meal itself was perfectly fine, no doubt due to the copious amounts of expensive Dornish wine provided, the company was severely lacking. Benjen frequently shot her smirks and doubtful gazes over Ned's shoulder as Robert recounted a tale of the time he defeated the great Ser Arthur Dayne in a melee back at the Vale. Robert's voice seemed to echo around the hall for everyone to hear, and not one person in the mix questioned how a knight of the Kingsguard ended up so far from Kings Landing for a simple, small tourney.

"Greatest warrior I ever saw, Ser Arthur Dayne," Robert finished his story and lowered his voice down to a somewhat acceptable volume. "Find it hard to believe I beat him sometimes."

"Don't we all," Lyanna grumbled under her breath, looking away from the man and towards her brothers.

Benjen was drinking in the Dornish wine almost as much as he was drinking in the sight of one of the maidens across the room who was serving distant relatives of Lord Robert. Ned on the other hand had his eyes transfixed on Robert, flickering his gaze occasionally to Lyanna. Lyanna knew why. Her betrothal had yet to be confirmed by her father, but they all knew it was already in the works. Lyanna also knew that it was Ned who had planted the idea in their father's head, thinking it would be a grand idea to be related to his best friend. Yet even silly, loyal Ned, who probably wouldn't know love if it ran him through with a sword, could tell that Lyanna was not happy with the current arrangement.

"What about you my lady?" Robert addressed Lyanna, displeased that he had lost the young girl's attention. "Who was the greatest warrior you ever saw at tourney?"

Lyanna didn't even consider his question. "I rarely go to tourneys. I find the idea of swordplay fascinating, but if my father refuses to allow me to learn than what is the point in wasting my time on something that I will gain nothing from. I prefer to watch the joust. Horses are a bit of a hobby of mine."

Benjen snickered as he drew his attention back to his own table. Anyone who bothered to have a genuine conversation with Lyanna could have seen that answer before she even spoke. Lyanna treated horses better than she treated most people. She could spend all day riding through the woods around Winterfell and never be content. There were times the entire guard of Winterfell had to be sent out to find her if she rode too far to get back by sundown. All that girl wanted to do was ride her horse to the ends of the kingdoms till she'd seen everything there was to see and gone everywhere worth going to.

"What are your plans for the day, Robert?" Ned cut into the conversation in hopes of hiding Benjen's laughter.

Robert let out a loud, annoyed groan and finished off his goblet of wine. "At midday I must greet a party frm Dorne. Doran Martell has just taken control of House Martell from his mother, and he seems set on marrying off his siblings as quickly as possible. Stannis and I are to consider his sister, Elia, while her and her brothers, Oberyn, are here." He rolled his eyes and let them fall on his precious Lyanna, imagining what kind of woman it would take to rip him from her. "As if I'd consider marrying some Dornish whore."

That did it. Lyanna slammed her cutlery down on the table and got her feet. Robert jumped to his feet, worrying something was wrong with her. Every voice in the hall ceased. Every eye turned to the high table. Every body froze in their place. "Feeling sick," Lyanna mumbled a poor attempt at an excuse before she turned and ran from the hall.

"Lyanna!" Benjen was the only one who dared to follow after her. "Are you all right?" He panted as he finally caught up with her on the steps of the keep.

Lyanna slumped to her knees in the doorway. Her eyes turned to Benjen with absolute horror and disgust. "That is Ned's friend? That is the man I am to marry?" Lyanna didn't know if she wanted to curse or cry. "An arrogant, heartless noble who judges people without knowing them and cares only for his own pleasure."

"He's been in love with you since you first met," Benjen repeated Ned's words.

"That," she glared down at her hands in her lap, "is not love. That is the lust of an insatiable drunk who does not know boundaries! He knows nothing of true passion or love."

"He certainly has his flaws," Neither of them heard Ned approach until his comment made his presence known, "but we all do, sister. At the end of the day, he's a kind, respectable man. He'll treat you with loyalty and honor, even if he can't manage love."

"Honor?" Lyanna spat the word out like it burnt her tongue. "What does he know of honor? The man claims he's loved me for years yet he already has one bastard waiting in the wings in the Vale."

"I thought you never had a problem with bastards?" Benjen's tone was somewhere between accusing and questioning.

Lyanna rolled her eyes at that, "That is not what I am saying. My point is that in the time the man has supposedly been in love with me he has already fathered a bastard. Clearly his 'love' meant little to him then, what of the 'love' we have when we are wed? His vows won't last a month after he finally gets bored bedding the same woman over and over again." She thought for a moment how to word her next sentence, "Him having a bastard is not the problem. If he'd had her before we met that would have been fine. I would not have judged him for feeling something for another before he knew me, but he had her after he'd already asked you for my hand, Ned. How can I trust his vows of loyalty to my marriage when his supposed love for me was worth nothing the first time a beautiful maid passed him in my absence?"

Lyanna got to her feet and turned to face her brothers, taking a deep, calming breath, "My problem is not with bastards. Bastards cannot help what they are. No man or woman is to blame for how or when they are born. If there is ever blame to be placed due to the circumstances the blame falls to the father, not the son."

"Wise words from a wise woman."

The three Starks standing on the steps of Storm's End whipped around to face the voice who had interrupted their conversation.

Sitting atop a pair of horses, flanked by a carriage and a small group of soldiers, were a man and a woman, very clearly Dornish. They both had similar features, with a few minor alterations, but their coloring was all the same. Shiny, jet black hair framing their faces, sun kissed skin that looked more like flowing caramel than anything else, and those perfect, full pink lips that looked as though they'd just been kissed. Both were absolutely beautiful in their own right, but side by side they looked like two of the Southern gods.

Lyanna turned slightly pink as she realized she was staring at the man, and her eyes fell immediately to her feet. "Thank you. You must be the lady and lord from Dorne; Lord Robert was not expecting you until later in the day." Lyanna gave Benjen a warning look which he immediately picked up on, giving the party a polite nod before turning back to the keep to get Robert.

The man dismounted his horse and handed the reins to one of his soldiers. "In Dorne," he addressed Lyanna as he turned around, stepping to stand rather inappropriately close to her, "our highest lords are called princes, and our ladies princesses." The prince picked up Lyanna's hand and brought it slowly to his lips. "You look like a princess," he breathed gently against the back of her hand before he pressed a kiss to it and lowered it back to her side.

Lyanna's cheeks were certainly crimson now if they hadn't been before. Since the whispers of her impending betrothal to Robert, very few men had given her the attention they used to shower her in. It felt good to be admired by someone other than that drunken oaf.

"Tell me," the Dornishmen ignored Ned's glare and bestowed a bright smile on the young girl in front of him, "Does the princess have a name?"

"Lyanna, Lyanna Stark," she curtseyed politely to him. "And you are?"

The Dornishmen trailed his eyes over her, slowly taking in her form. "Oberyn Martell," he bowed respectfully to her, "what a pleasure to meet you, my princess."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you for all the support and all the reviews! Clearly some of you are curious as to where this is going. While Lyanna is not one my favorite characters (although that's mostly because she's a pre-series character), Oberyn is by far my favorite character in the whole series so I'm more than happy to continue this for a little while. See where it goes.**_

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Lyanna stood frozen in the small courtyard of Storm's End. It was the dead of night, so dark she could barely see her hand if she raised it in front of her eyes. Lyanna's eyes were not on her hands, though. They weren't even gazing to the earth around. Her eyes were watching the skies.

The moon was nearly full that night. Only a small sliver remained hidden from her gaze. By tomorrow it would be shining big and bright for all of Westeros to see. Not that many people in Westeros took the time to stare at the sky. The lords were too busy with their battles and their wars, their marriages and their power. The commoners were too busy breaking their backs to work the land and struggling for every coin to stay alive. None of them appreciated the small thing, even when the small things weren't so small.

Stars dim and bright blinked down at her. She liked to think it was a kind of acknowledgment. The gods, old or new, noticing that someone was staring up at them. Someone was appreciating their beautiful handiwork instead of just sucking it dry.

A quiet, contented sigh escaped Lyanna's lips. She felt so trapped here in Storm's End. The high, thick walls felt more like a tomb than anything else, closing in around her, just waiting for the day she finally took her last breath. The stone was cold and harsh; there was no warmth, no comfort in its existence. Far below she could hear the sound of the water beating against the rocks. Even that, the open water, usually such a relaxation for her, was unkind here. The waves were too high to swim through, and any boat that dared try and break for the sea would be pushed back to wreck against the cliffs. She hated this place; she would be damned to death before she let Ned and her father force her into this hellish prison.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

Lyanna was too engrossed in her thoughts to bother jumping. It only took her a few seconds to register the voice and figure out who it was. "What is?" She asked, eyes still on the stars as the man approached her.

"The stars."

Lyanna's eyes came down, and she fixed her gaze on Prince Oberyn, if only for a brief moment. "Yes, I quite like them. They're of great comfort to me, especially here."

Oberyn met her gaze with a raised eyebrow, "And why is that, Lady Stark?"

With a small smile, she turned back to the sky, "Reminds me of the freedom I will never have, I suppose."

"Never?" A quiet chuckle fell from the prince's lips. "Surely you will get your freedom soon, though? When you marry and leave your father's house for your husband's you will be able to build a family of your own… There are rumors that Lord Robert is your betrothed."

"Yes, freedom," Lyanna scoffed at the idea. "I will be free from my father's watchful eye and placed under the brutish hand of whoever he sees fit to sell me to. I will leave the confines of the four stone walls of Winterfell. I will ride through the kingdoms to my new home. I will be put behind four different stone walls which will become my tomb till the day I die. While there I will wed the man who will force himself on me to get his precious heir and pleasure himself first but never me. I will risk my life to bare him as many children as he pleases, then he will train my sons for war so that they may know how to fight till their deaths. And so the cycle continues with my daughters, sold to the highest bidder."

Her eyes stayed transfixed on the stars. She meant every word, and she wouldn't take them back. Yet part of her was worried. She did not know how Oberyn took such open animosity. She did not know the man yet.

"In Dorne," Lyanna cautiously looked to Oberyn from the corner of her eye and saw he too kept his eyes on the stars, "we do not sell our woman in such a way. They are our equals. If they wish to marry, they marry their love. If they wish to fight, they learn to fight. If they wish their freedom," Oberyn looked over to Lyanna, catching her gazing sideways at him, "they are given freedom."

Lyanna sighed but was unable to remove her gaze from the alluring Dornishmen. "Then it is truly a shame that I will never see Dorne." Her face fell slightly at her next thought, "I will never know such a freedom."

"Don't judge so quickly, my lady," Oberyn countered. "A girl like you would fit in so well in Dorne." He offered Lyanna his hand with a smirk. "Come with me."

There was something almost predatory in his gaze, and for the first time since his arrival the day prior she understood why he was called the Red Viper. The look should've cautioned her, but something about it excited her. Men in the northern kingdoms did not look at ladies, or any women, like that. They looked on their wives with boredom. They looked on ladies with passive respect. They looked on whores with hunger. Anyone else was treated like one of those three depending on their looks. Oberyn seemed different though. He was predatory but not hungry and respectful but certainly not passive. It was intriguing, and Lyanna found herself accepting his hand before she could stop herself.

Oberyn kissed the back of her hand gently before turning and guiding the girl along behind him. "You say you want freedom, yes?" He asked her over his shoulder.

Lyanna nodded, voice barely coming out above a whisper, "Yes." It wasn't that she was stunned speechless, or that she was trying to sneak through the courtyard. Something about the moment seemed incredibly personal, too intimate to be spoken aloud.

"Well then, my princess," he led her along behind him into the stables and stopped in front of a jet black stallion tied to a post in front of a bale of hay. Oberyn turned to her with a mischievous smirk, "Let me give you a taste of it."

The young prince let go of Lyanna to untie the reins to his stallion. Quickly climbing up on the horse bareback, he offered Lyanna a hand to help her up. She took it at once, no longer thinking of where any of this was headed. Her curiosity was the only thing making her decisions now.

Oberyn pulled her up onto the horse behind him and led it slowly to the open gates. "Hide your face in my shoulder, Lyanna," he whispered to her as they approached the two guards.

Lyanna did as she was told, putting her face in the crook of his neck. Out of nerves, her arms wrapped tightly around him. It was probably a little too tight to be comfortable, but he did not complain. If anything he sat up taller on the horse, arching his back with a sense of regal superiority.

"Good evening," Oberyn addressed the guards with a nod, heading at a casual pace through the gate.

The guards looked at each other, unsure of what to do. "Where would you be going this time of night, prince?" One of them asked. The guard was trying to speak with authority, but there was no weight behind it.

Oberyn could hear the nerves in their voices as much as he could see them in their bodies. They didn't know if they had the right to stop him or not, and they didn't know how he would react to being stopped. Even the Stormlands had heard whispers of 'the Red Viper of Dorne'. "Out for a late night ride," Oberyn reached down and stroked his hand gently over one of Lyanna's hands as it tightened around him. "You understand, yes?" He said very seductively.

All of the guards immediately caught on to what the Dornishman was implying and stepped out of his way. Their cheeks turned red with embarrassment as Oberyn rode past. None of them could muster up the courage to look up at him, or the girl clutching to his back, the woman soon to be betrothed to their lord.

"What was that?!" Lyanna whispered to Oberyn as they rode at a slow pace through the gates, making their way down the hill on which Storm's End rested.

Oberyn let out a quiet laugh. "Do you really think they would allow me to go out in the middle of the night with their Lord's betrothed?"

"I'm not his betrothed," Lyanna countered, "not yet anyway."

Oberyn looked back over his shoulder and determined he was far enough away from the castle now. "Hold on." He warned her.

"What?" A second later Lyanna realized what he was doing and gasped, once again clutching to Oberyn's chest.

Oberyn had loosed the reins slightly and snapped them, breaking his horse into an all-out sprint away from Storm's End. Oberyn laughed loudly into the air as Lyanna held onto him, praying she wouldn't fall off due to lack of a saddle. He let the horse run at his own fast pace, only reaching for the reins to guide him.

They rode along the hills parallel to the cliffs next to the water, and the longer they rode the more Lyanna could relax. She'd never ridden her own horse bareback, and she'd rarely ever ridden at night in the north. She wasn't allowed to do either. It was… liberating, really. The cool night air was whipping her hair around as she watched the small town below Storm's End pass by in a darkened blur. The sights and sounds were so different at night, so new an intriguing. Her muscles relaxed, and her arms fell from their clutches around Oberyn as she looked up at the sky.

The stars still looked all the same. They still twinkled brightly alongside the moon. They still hung in the same space in the sky. Everything was the same, but it felt so different. Looking up at them from the open, rather than trapped behind some walls, it was exhilarating. She felt, if only for a brief moment, free. Free of that boring castle, free of her overprotective brothers, free of her impending betrothal, free of everything and everyone.

"Tell me, Lyanna," Oberyn slowed his horse as they approached a small grove of trees on top the next hill. He quickly pulled the horse to a stop and hopped off, giving Lyanna his hand down. "Do you truly love Robert Baratheon?" Leading his horse over to a nearby branch, Oberyn tied it up and sat against the tree as she mulled over his words.

Lyanna quickly joined him, sitting down with her back against the next tree, facing him while looking at the ground. She wasn't sure if she could trust this man with that particular opinion. She'd already probably trusted him too much by voicing her earlier thoughts on marriage. To be fair, even allowing herself to come out here with him would be considered too far by most.

He listened though. That's why she'd told him all those things. Because, unlike Ned or Benjen or Brandon or her father, this man had listened. He hadn't told her his opinion first and scrutinized her for disagreeing. He'd asked her for her thoughts and acknowledged what she was saying. No one else ever did that for her.

"In truth," Lyanna sighed, preparing for whatever reaction may come, "no. I cannot think of a man I love less than Robert."

"Why do you hold such distain for the man?" He'd been hoping he would get the opportunity to fully understand her disgust.

"The man has claimed he loved me for more than three years now, yet two months ago, a month before he returned to his place at Storm's End, he fathered a bastard daughter back in the Vale." Lyanna chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "How can he claim to love me when he'll dive between the legs of any woman who will have him?"

"In Dorne we are not quite so picky about our lovers," Oberyn murmured. "And we do not judge bastards for their birth… So I cannot say I understand your feelings." At least he was being honest with her.

"I don't judge his daughter." Lyanna defended quickly. "I would never. She had no choice in being born a bastard, just like I had no choice in being born a noble. I don't even care that Robert has a bastard. If he had a bastard from before he knew me I would not care in the slightest. I would be happy to raise her as my own. I would be happy to have him legitimize her or any others he had in his past… My problem lies in the fact that while he was already claiming he loved me he was takin another in his bed. God only knows how many women have been there before and since he put a baby in that poor girl's belly. Who knows he could have hundreds walking around; it could have taken hundreds of beddings for him to get one pregnant. I don't know, and that's what terrifies me. That and the lack of loyalty. If he isn't loyal to me now will he ever be?"

Oberyn nodded along with her. He could see her point, and he felt a little more comfortable in the knowledge that she truly held no ill will for the girl. "I see your point."

Silence fell over them after that, both simply relaxing and enjoying the breeze that was washing in from the distant cliffs. It was peaceful up here, peaceful and quiet. Lyanna could not thank Oberyn enough for getting her out of that castle, even if it was only for a short while. She was worried she would go insane behind those four walls.

Who knows how much time passed. The silence was comfortable and comforting. Neither of them wanted to break the aura that had fallen over the seen, yet Oberyn knew he must. He had one more question.

"Lyanna," he drew her attention from where she had again been staring at the stars, "do you want to marry Robert Baratheon."

Lyanna let out a rather nervous laugh. "I don't wish to marry him. Ned has been a good friend of Robert's since a very young age. He wants his friend to be his brother, and Robert is more than happy to oblige, particularly because he's been quite infatuated with me. My father's happy with a marriage to any man of noble birth, and Robert's been parading me around so much that he doesn't really have any better options."

A quiet fell over the pair of them for moment as her words sunk in. Oberyn had assumed, rightfully so after overhearing bits of her conversation with her brothers earlier, that she was not happy with her impending betrothal. He had not, however, realized that she had no alternative. A beautiful, intelligent woman like her surely would have noblemen lining up at her father's door. It sounded as though Robert had scared them all away. A smirk spread over Oberyn's lips. The little lord thought if he yelled loud enough he would get what he wanted? Oberyn would see to it that he did not.

"Would you take an alternative if you had it? Or are you readily complying in your brother's ideas?" Oberyn asked to establish some certainty.

Lyanna's eyes moved away from the Dornishman and stared off into the dark, dense forest that expanded out behind them. "Anything, anyone is better than that man."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you guys so much for all of the support for this story. I'm going to keep it going for as long as you guys keep reading. It really means a lot to have your support. Especially the reviews, particularly those on the new chapter from blood red crystal, A Frozen Shadow, Anna, Ketsueko, Malyx Blackfyre, Lily Evans Martell, and littlemsstrawberry. **_

**In response to Ketsueko:****I won't answer your question about Rhaegar because that would ruin some of where the story is going obviously, but I will tell you that Ellaria is not featured in this story. I've never really been a fan of her character anyway. That said, the way people describe Lyanna in the books I have always thought of her as naïve, on some level, and ruled by emotions. I feel like she is a tomboy like Arya who lets her emotions make her decisions like Sansa. Also, if you're looking for a year this story starts in that would be 279. Meaning Oberyn has Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene but not the others. It's a year before he would've had Sarella, also a year before Elia would marry Rhaegar**.

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Lyanna ran towards the woods as fast as her skirts allowed, ignoring the shouts from behind her as Benjen tried to call her back to the castle.

It had only been a fortnight since she finally managed to talk her brothers into escaping Storm's End, and they had already arrived at Riverrun. She thought that getting away from Storm's End would give her a chance to, at the very least, clear her head on the journey home, mentally prepare herself for what was to come. She thought that being away from Robert's obsessively hungry gaze and Oberyn's curiously hopeful eyes would give her some peace of mind. But no. As if she could be so lucky.

That morning, their second day at Riverrun, Eddard had come into the hall while she broke fast with Ben. He had an anxious look in his eyes as he searched the hall till he found her. His feet walked with purpose, not pausing for any pleasantries offered his way. That was how Lyanna knew it was bad. Ned was not the happiest of her brothers, but he was always polite.

"Brandon will be arriving here at midday. Father has sent him to meet with Catelyn before their wedding," Ned told her. Lyanna's heart soared into her throat. Thank the gods. Finally she would see her eldest brother again. Finally she would have someone to joke with, someone to tease, someone to lift her spirits, for however long they stayed in Riverrun anyway. Why would Ned be anxious about a thing like that? "He is also bringing news from father… Your betrothal has been decided."

Lyanna hadn't been able to control herself. She hadn't been able to stop her feet as they swept her from the Great Hall and led her out of the keep, out of the yard, through the gates, and towards the woods. Her ears were deaf to the cries of her youngest brother, and her eyes were blind to the guards who waved their hands for her to stop.

All Lyanna wanted right now was a moment to herself. All she'd asked for was a peaceful journey home to contemplate where her life was going, or rather where she was being forced to go. It seemed her father wouldn't even grant her that.

Her feet carried her to a clearing in the woods just beyond the castle, Riverrun's godswood. Catelyn had taken the time to show it to her yesterday morning. It was the only place her brothers would not disturb her and the Tully's would not go.

The godswood was a beautiful green meadow, filled with birds and flowers with redwood trees scattered throughout. The weirwood in the center looked down on the young lady with a sad expression, matching her feelings at the moment as she sunk to her knees before the tree.

Gods, Lyanna felt like she was acting so childish right now. She'd known since she was a little girl that she would have no say in her marriage. She shouldn't have run like that. She should have stood up and proclaimed her gratefulness to the gods for giving her Robert Baratheon as a husband, like she was expected to. She could rebel against it later to her father if she liked, but running away here would do no good to anyone. Every other noblewoman in Westeros would be going through exactly what she was now, except those in Dorne if Oberyn was to be believed. She wasn't any different than them.

Lyanna didn't get up though. She didn't move from her spot on her knees. She just needed time to process everything she was about to lose. She didn't have much freedom in Winterfell, but she had some, more at least than most ladies did. The thought of losing what little she had terrified her. She didn't care if she never loved her husband. She didn't care if she never had children. She didn't care if she was forced to leave her home. She cared about her freedom.

Not the journeys with her guard to see Ned in the Vale, or chasing Benjen through the halls of Winterfell as they escaped from their lessons, or her mother letting her wear trousers to dinner on occasion. That wasn't freedom, not really anyway. She cared about Brandon waking her up with the sun and sneaking down to the yard to show her how to use a bow. She cared about Jory distracting the guards so she could ride out alone into the Wolfswood. She cared about her late night adventure with a Dornish Prince in the Stormlands…

"Don't tell father, but I might prefer the godswood here."

Lyanna looked up and saw Brandon joining her in the clearing. "Is it already midday?" She mumbled out her question, turning her eyes back to the weirwood tree.

"Yes," Brandon joined her in front of the tree and sunk to his knees. "I assume you know why I came to you?"

"I assume it's not because you're a good brother who worries for his sister's health," she shot back immediately.

"That's not why I'm here, but it's good to know you still have your humor about you." Brandon chuckled and put an arm over Lyanna's shoulders, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever happens, you know I will always be your brother. I will always protect you, whether it's from the whitewalkers Old Nan convinced you were living under your bed when you were five," Lyanna smiled at that and leaned into Brandon's shoulder, "or your husband from the other end of Westeros."

"The Stormlands aren't quite the other end of Westeros," Lyanna mused. "They're only a few weeks ride. We'll still see each other."

Brandon's arm fell from Lyanna's shoulder, drawing her eyes from the weirwood at the sudden movement. "Lyanna," he hedged slightly, reaching into a pouch on his waist and pulling out three folded pieces of paper, "you should read this." He handed them to her hesitantly.

Taking them from her brother, Lyanna slowly unfolded the paper and began to read. The first one was written in her father's hand.

_My dearest Lyanna,_

_I trust your stay in Storm's End was as pleasant and exciting as we hoped. Your presence has been sorely missed in the halls of Winterfell. It pains me greatly to think that very soon I will have to learn to live without your presence permanently. _

_Some interesting things have come to past since you left us. I have had my eyes opened by many in your time away, and I must say that I have started doubting some things I thought to be certain only just before you left. _

_That written, I must include my deepest apologies to you, my only daughter. Had I known then what I know now I would not have done or said some of the things I did and said in regards to you. I am doing all I can to rectify what can be rectified and hope you will forgive me of what cannot be undone, namely my words to you, for I will never forgive myself for some of the things that left my mouth before you were gone. I only hope your gracious heart extends to your father as far as it extends to your precious horses._

_With my apologies done and my confessions made, I should move on to the purpose of my letter. I suppose it would be proper for me to announce this to you in person. However, the many things that have changed since you left Winterfell include this news, and it is so vital to your happiness and livelihood that I could not bear to hold it from you a moment longer than necessary. _

_It is in regards to your betrothal. After receiving the two letters I have sent along with mine, my mind has been somewhat swayed. –_

"L-Letters?" Lyanna looked up, mid paragraph, to Brandon who'd sat patiently beside her as she read, "What letters? What does he mean his mind has changed?!" Her heart raced faster than her horse. She hadn't realized she had something new to dread until now. She had thought that anyone would be better than Robert Baratheon, but perhaps not. If she was not headed to Storm's End where would she go?

Her heart froze in her chest. The only other nobleman who had asked her father for her hand as of late had been from the Dreadfort, Lord Roose of House Bolton. Gods, surely he would not send her there. Anywhere but there. She'd go to Robert Baratheon with open arms and spread legs before she went anywhere with that Bolton.

"They're behind father's," Brandon pointed out to her.

Lyanna set aside her father's letter, not wanting to finish it until she was absolutely certain of what he was speaking of. The second paper was in another familiar hand, Benjen's.

_Father I do not have much time to write. Lord Robert has kept us quite busy, but I wanted to take a few quick moments to write to you before luncheon. _

_Father, you cannot send Lyanna to this place. Ned is blinded by his friendship if he truly thinks she would be anything other than miserable here. We've only been here a short while, and I am surprised that she has not yet run him through with a stolen sword or trampled him under her horse. _

_Lyanna spoke to Ned and I this morning after we broke fast. She was livid father. He's a crude man who only cares for Lyanna because of her beauty. Apparently, he already has a bastard in the Vale, whom he fathered after claiming he loved her. Lyanna doesn't think he even knows what love is, and I'm inclined to agree. Even this morning, when Lyanna did not return to the Great Hall I saw Robert leave with a serving wench in the direction of his chambers. _

_I understand why you're desperate to marry her to him. He's a powerful lord and a great warrior. That's true enough, but there are thousands of great warriors and hundreds of lords, and plenty of men who are better than Robert Baratheon at both._

_I cannot make any decisions for you, but I will tell you this. If you send Lyanna to the Stormlands you will never know the love of a daughter again till you lie dying in your bed._

"Sweet Benjen," Lyanna smiled sadly down at the letter. It was a noble effort on his part to try to weasel her out of her betrothal, but their father already knew of her displeasure with Robert. It hadn't stopped him when it came from her; why should it stop him coming from his son?

"That wasn't the only letter Benjen sent," Brandon called her attention from the paper to him. "He sent nearly a dozen while you were there, recounting every abhorrent detail of Robert's behavior and your reaction to it all." Brandon chuckled and looked down at it in her hands, "Here I thought I was the protective one."

"Seems you were wrong," Lyanna smirked, folding up Benjen's letter and handing it back to her brother. "I appreciate his attempts, futile or not."

"I wouldn't say they fell on deaf ears just yet, sister," Brandon pointed to the other letter and settled back on his heels, waiting for her to read again.

Lyanna hesitated to look down at it. She was scared to think of what other letters Benjen had sent on. Yet when her eyes fell back between her hands she did not recognize the writing. It was all very foreign to her.

_Lord Rickard Stark, _

_It gives me great pleasure to send correspondents to a man as honorable as yourself. Tales of your house reach far and wide across the seven kingdoms and have even found their way to my door._

_That is not why I write to you this day. I am afraid such pleasantries must wait till another time, for I have business I wish to discuss with you first and foremost._

_I do not know if you are aware, but I, and my sister, have been residing in Storm's End for a time now. My elder brother has allowed us the pleasure of traveling the southern kingdoms in search of brides and grooms. I believe he hopes my sister to consider Robert or Stannis of the House Baratheon as possible partners in marriage._

_You can imagine my surprise that, at a house we visited for my sister's discretion, it was I who found the truest gem and not she. I do not need to describe your daughter's beauty to you, nor do I need to tell you of the passion in her eyes or the fire in her blood. I am certain you have been blessed to see such things for yourself through the years, and I am sure you can understand what a rare beauty a thing like that is in a woman, especially a lady. _

_However later the same day, I felt most unfortunate to hear that the beauty I laid eyes on had already been claimed by one of my sister's possible suitors. It was not until I finally managed to spark a conversation with her myself that I realized this was not the case. But I also realized something further, I would do anything in the world to be given a chance with a woman like her._

_I have been told that rumors of her betrothal to the Baratheon have scared off any other possibilities, and the idea of a beauty like that forced to accept what is left to her causes me great pain. Your daughter deserves better than Robert Baratheon scaring off the competition of other men. Then again, rumors of betrothal scare off weak men, leaving only the strong and truly willing to fight for the hand of a beautiful lady. _

_I assure you, Lord Stark; I am not scared by the likes of an oaf like Robert Baratheon. _

_I do not write you to try to proclaim myself the better suitor or try to prove that I am superior to Robert Baratheon. I am not even writing to show you Robert's true character, for your daughter is a strong, vocal woman who has certainly expressed this to you herself already. I simply write to express my interest in your daughter and beg your consideration in the fight for her hand. The choice is yours, Lord Stark. _

_Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne._

"I didn't…" Lyanna's eyes were wide, and her jaw hung slack. "H-He asked," She stumbled over the words, "if I would take an alternative to Robert, if I had one."

Brandon watched his sister with a calculated gaze. "Sister, finish father's letter," His voice was low and deep. He could not react until he knew her true emotions. He needed to know where she stood.

Lyanna, hands shaking with a combination of fear and anxiety, picked back up father's letter from the grass and set Oberyn's in her lap.

_It is in regards to your betrothal. After receiving the two letters I have sent along with mine, my mind has been somewhat swayed._

_After much consideration, I spoke with my advisors, your brothers, the Baratheons, and the Martells during your journey to Riverrun. It is now, as I write this, that I make my decision. Lyanna, I hope you know that you are my daughter, and I love you deeply. That is why I'm disregarding all else and making the decision I think would be best for you. _

_Any talk of a betrothal between you and Lord Robert Baratheon is hereby null. You are henceforth betrothed to the Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell of Dorne._

That was when Lyanna's tears began to fall.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Wow! So many favorites and alerts and reviews. Thank you all so much for the support. Especially those of you who took the time to review: A Frozen Shadow, ladyres, thunder18, darkwolf76, guest1, Malyx Blackfyre, DarylDixon'sLover, Anna B., Anna, Ketsueko, Lily Evans Martell, MadameMcQueen, and guest2**_

_**Several of you asked or hoped for Robert's reaction, and unfortunately that does not come this chapter, but I promise you that we have not seen the last of Robert Baratheon. In fact, you're about to get an overload of him in the coming chapters.**_

**In response to your question Malyx: I can't actually tell you without implying something, but I will say that he (or at least a version of him) will be seen much much later in this story. Not to fear. **

**In response to Ketsueko: As mentioned, can't answer your questions about Robert. But I will say I agree with you on Lyanna and Ellaria. **

**In response to Lily Evans Martell: I won't say for sure exactly how she feels about Oberyn just yet. I think more than liking Oberyn she's just relieved he's not Robert.**

* * *

"So we should just let some Dornishmen come in and steal her away from us?!"

"It's not our decision!"

"Even if it was, I'd rather send her there than Storm's End!"

"She wasn't happy there! Even you could see that!"

"I know she wasn't happy! I'm not blind! But just because she wasn't happy there doesn't mean she'd be happy in Dorne!"

Lyanna sighed and pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples. Her head ached from all the yelling, and if it didn't stop soon she was going to make it stop. They'd already been at it for hours. She just hoped they ran out of things to say before they got themselves thrown out of the inn.

Lyanna had made Brandon promise to let her tell the others in her own time, but clearly that had not worked in her favor. After Brandon escorted her back to Riverrun, he had arranged to have their group, including himself, depart the following morning, much to the chagrin of his betrothed. It had been while they were dismounting in front of the inn they currently occupied that Oberyn's letter fell from her saddle bag. Eddard had been the one to notice it, but before he could hand it back to her he noticed the name at the bottom.

He was furious to say the least. What truly terrified Lyanna was that he wasn't mad at their father over the betrothal, but at her for some combination of speaking to Oberyn and being unhappy with the thought of an unhappy marriage. They had barely made it to their rooms before the fight began. Brandon immediately dove to Lyanna's side while Benjen walked a precarious line between the two.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn about these things?!" Brandon raged, "Doesn't our sister's happiness mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does," Ned defended himself, glaring down his elder brother. "Doesn't her safety mean anything to you?!"

Brandon crossed his arms over his chest, "What makes you think she won't be safe in Dorne?"

"It's on the other end of Westeros! We have no way of knowing whether she will be safe or not!" Ned waved the letter in Brandon's face. "Do you know what they call the precious little prince?! The Red Viper! And you know why they call him such? He uses poisoned blades and fought with sell swords in Essos! That is the man you trust with our only sister?!"

Benjen was the one to jump in then, "Those are just rumors, and even so shouldn't you be pleased? Does that not prove you are trusting her in the hands of a capable fighter?"

"A capable fighter, yes or no. He's a dishonorable fighter is what he is," Ned countered.

Brandon snorted and rolled his eyes at his younger brother's statement. "So it's not that you do not care about our sister, it's that you lack a knowledge of strategy." Brandon grabbed Ned's still outstretched arm and pulled him close, speaking to his ear in a dangerously low voice, "Honor does not win battles. Sacrifice does. What good is your honor if he lives and you die?" Brandon pushed his younger brother away but kept his eyes on him as he said, "Lyanna, talk some sense into him." Then he left the room, pulling Benjen along with him.

Lyanna dropped her fingers from her temples and watched two of her brothers leave the room. She sat back in the chair she was occupying and raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for Ned's inevitable outburst.

Yet none came. Without a word the ever-guarded second brother slumped back against the wall showing the first sign of weakness since the argument began. Despite popular belief, Eddard Stark was not built entirely of stone. Arguing with his brothers took a great toll on his emotions. It left him lonely and drained. Arguing with Lyanna was worse. Every time Ned would find her sneaking into the tiltyard to shoot some arrows or coming back from a trip into the Wolfswood alone he would remind her of what was proper for a lady or how father didn't want her doing that, and every time, without fail, Lyanna would snap at him. The pair would go at it for hours if they could, but when they finally gave in Eddard was left feeling guilty and ashamed while Lyanna walked off with a look of betrayal on her face.

"You never make things easy, Lyanna," Ned sighed, eyes looking anywhere but his sister.

Lyanna smiled at his words, "Where's the fun in life if I cannot at least torment you with the small liberties I am given."

Ned rolled his eyes. She always came with a witty retort on the tip of her tongue. "Perhaps you could do something more productive with your time? Then you might find you enjoy something more than tormenting father and I with Brandon."

"One day," Lyanna pointed a finger at him for emphasis, "you are going to have daughters of your own to torment you, and then, and only then, will I relinquish my duties in that respect."

A moment of silence claimed the room as the amusement slowly fell from them both. Neither really knew how to proceed. Ned was sick of arguing with his family. He was sick of being seen as the quite, cold lone wolf. His sister, whether to Robert or Oberyn, was about to leave him forever. He didn't want her to leave hating him.

"Why not Robert, Lyanna? That's all I want to know. What was so bad about Robert that you had to betray me this way?" He posed the question that really bothered him.

Lyanna could hear it in his voice that he felt neglected. That had never been her intention. "I'm sorry Ned. I know you love him, and maybe in another life I will too. Just not this one. He's not ready for love, and I don't know if he ever will be."

"And Oberyn is?" A bite came out in Ned's voice now. Resentment.

"Maybe," She shrugged. "Maybe not, but at least there's a chance he could be. If nothing else I at least know he won't rob me of a life without him should I be left unhappy. Robert would have me sitting on a pedestal locked away in a room only he can see. He'd make me stand there till I confessed to the world that he was the only man I could ever love. I will have a chance to love Oberyn, but if I don't, in Dorne, they will let me live as I please."

Ned looked at her now, even if her eyes were focused in on her hands. "Could you ever love Oberyn?"

"I don't know yet," she looked up at Ned, "but I'm damn sure going to try."

* * *

Rickard Stark was by no means a gentle man. He could be plenty kind when he wished to be, but even in his kindest moments there was an ever-present stern expression on his face. It was that expression which looked down on Lyanna now, making it impossible for her to tell how he was feeling.

"Father," she greeted him on the steps of Winterfell with her most innocent expression. They had only just arrived home, and her brothers stood waiting behind Rickard. Now was certainly not the time to start any deep conversations.

"Daughter," Rickard responded with a curt nod, "we need to speak about your impending betrothal."

"Of course," Lyanna's eyes fell to her feet. She'd been hoping to let the situation with Ned calm down a little before anything happened, but clearly that was not to be.

Rickard took Lyanna's arm and guided her up the steps. "I will see you three at dinner. Perhaps you might assist Maester Walys in ordering new stocks?" Without any further direction he led his daughter towards the library. "How was your journey home?" He asked as they walked.

"Well enough. I do regret stealing Brandon away from Catelyn so quickly. They barely even spoke before we left." Lyanna felt her shoulders ease slightly as they distanced themselves from her brothers. At least she would not have to worry about Ned overhearing something he did not like.

"I didn't receive any letters from you," Rickard pointed out.

Lyanna sighed, "I know. I'm terribly sorry. Things were very busy. Lord Robert was quite set on showing us every inch of the Stormlands it would seem."

Rickard chuckled, a quite deep sound that never quite reached his eyes, "Shame it was all for not." He opened the door for her and followed her into the library. "Benjen found the time to write, on occasion. I imagine Robert spoke with him the least, knowing your brother and hoping for your hand."

"Yes," Lyanna agreed as she took a seat at a table her father often used as a desk, "I don't think Benjen minded much. He liked exploring on his own more than following Robert around all day."

"And you?" Rickard finally got to his point. "You read the letter I sent with my own. Was Benjen right in conveying your displeasure with the place?"

Lyanna thought for a moment on how she could best convey her meaning, "I was not particularly wooed by Storm's End, but it was the company I found even more disagreeable." There was a fine line, in Lyanna's mind, between giving Robert the proper respect of his title and speaking honestly enough that she would not damage the positive position she had landed herself in.

"I see," Rickard nodded, pondering her words. "I gathered from Benjen that Robert Baratheon is not as kind to his women as he is to your brother."

"He's a good warrior," Lyanna defended. The last thing she wanted was to destroy her relationship with Ned further by over-insulting his friend. "He's a good friend to Ned as well."

"True enough, he is, but good warriors and good friends do not always make good husbands and good leaders." Reaching across the table, he placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder, trying his best to give her a comforting look. "Lyanna, you can always be honest with me about your feelings. I wished to join our house with House Baratheon, but if I knew it displeased you so much I would never have pushed it on you in such a way. My only regret for the situation is that it was Benjen who had to open my blind eyes."

Lyanna did her best to hide her shock. That was certainly not the reaction she had been anticipating from her father. Rickard Stark was a battle-hardened warrior more than anything else. The idea of him allowing her a chance at happiness rather than going for the immediately stronger option was shocking. "Thank you, father. I am sorry I did not come to you immediately. I did not want to go against your wishes."

"My wishes are no matter anymore. Soon enough you will be gone from Winterfell, and then the only decisions which will matter are those of your husband." Rickard sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Which is why we need to speak of your betrothal."

"Of course," Lyanna chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Her father was the only person in the world who had the ability to consistently rattle her nerves.

Rickard eyed his daughter's expression as he spoke. "I received word from Doran Martell earlier this morning. It appears he wishes his brother's wedding to take place as soon as possible. You are just now coming of age to marry, but Oberyn has been putting this off for several years already. Doran needs Oberyn to marry quickly to help cement his new position as leader of Dorne."

"Of course," Lyanna agreed, passively taking in her father's words.

"That said," Rickard smirked. For a moment Lyanna was thrown off balance. She had never seen that sort of expression on her father. She would sooner expect him to walk into the study and declare that he, himself, was remarrying to Lord Roose Bolton than she would expect him to smirk at her. "It would appear," he continued, unhearing of her train of thought, "that you made quite the impression on the younger prince of Dorne."

"Why would you say that?" Lyanna's tone was highly suspicious, more of his expression than his words, though those were suspicious too.

"Because as we speak Prince Oberyn is leaving Storm's End with Princess Elia and a party from House Baratheon. He is on his way to Winterfell and will arrive by month's end, and Prince Doran will not be far behind. He is leaving Sunspear for here with a party of nobles of Dorne at the week's end. In two months both parties will arrive, as well as parties from nearly all of the seven kingdoms and every noble house of the north." Rickard Stark had never looked so smug in his life.

"And why on earth are they all doing such a thing?!" Lyanna was shocked to her feet by the news.

Rickard rolled his eyes as if his daughter was asking him the answer to the most obvious question in the world. "Prince Oberyn has insisted that the wedding take place here, in the godswood." Leisurely getting to his feet, Rickard stepped towards the door, "There is no godswood in Dorne, and Prince Oberyn would not see fit to rip you from ours without allowing you one last meaningful moment with the old gods." Rickard left Lyanna to stew over his words.

Lyanna needed to stew as well. She had gathered from their late night ride that Oberyn could be a kind man when he chose to be, but she had no idea that he would allow her such a liberty. It truly was a liberty, as well. Letting her ride or train with weapons or make her own decisions while in marriage was a great kindness, but giving up his own religion on one of the most influential days of their lives… That was something else, and Lyanna wasn't quite sure what.

* * *

_**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If all goes according to plan you won't be hearing from Lyanna for a while, sorry. **_

_**And by that I mean I think the next chapter will be from Oberyn's perspective... More because I miss him than anything else. I just want more Oberyn. **_

_**So yeah. I think that chapter answered some of your questions, but a lot of your questions (especially Robert related) will be answered in the next three chapters.**_

_**Don't hold me to any of this. This is just my rough estimate/idea of what's going on. Sometimes I'm just as clueless as y'all. **_


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